


Silently Suffering

by carrofelicia



Category: Noli Me Tangere & Related Works - José Rizal
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Minor Character Death, Revolution, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 03:33:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30015495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrofelicia/pseuds/carrofelicia
Summary: The final chapters El Filibusterismo, but in the perspective of young Placido Penitente who only wanted a quiet apolitical life, until his long lost uncle stirs his peaceful melancholy, and until he desires the safety and constant presence of Juanito Pelaez.-----------------------------------------------------(Or: Elias survived as Señor Emmanuel, a rich heredero who played rebel in the mountains for a while. He wants to help Simoun without revealing himself, and Placido might be his only chance to do so.)
Relationships: Basilio/Isagani (Noli Me Tangere & Related Works), Elias/Crisostomo Ibarra, Juanito Pelaez/Placido Penitente
Kudos: 1





	1. Biñan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. Thank you for thinking this fic could be worth your time.
> 
> It is mostly canon compliant, except Placido living with relatives, and Elias being alive.
> 
> Oh, and that the gas lamp has exploded and revolution sparked. 
> 
> Enjoy reading.

Placido Penitente, a melancholic young man in the middle of a serious political reform, has never been truly elated since the dawn of his adulthood. Before he was even born, news of the revolution has surrounded Cavite and Manila, and one of the hiddenly vital clans who know more than the colonial government is the rich fuedal clan of the Penitentes.

However, as the government is slowly strengthening its power, pulling soldiers and artisans from Spain, the Penitentes' position on the revolution has divided into three; one sided with the government due to fear, one stayed with the revolution---firey than ever, and one surrendered to the notion that the motherland will never be truly free no matter the outcome. Placido's father is one of those who lost hope, and the sentiment rubbed down to the young Penitente who lived his life in a simple house without a title Señorito. 

Placido's father married a commoner and lived away from the Hacineda that his old Auntie, Doña Anita, inherited. Despite the voluntary exclusion, Placido's family still visit for Christmas and Semana Santa. They are the young man's least favorite times of the year, as political clashes fly around the long dining table. At the Kabisera, Doña Anita always sits in sorrow, not caring for anything about Politics since she lost her son in the heat of underground revolution. Nobody knows who this son is, only the elders, and they do not talk about it in fear of upsetting the head of the Clan.

At 16, during the unfortunate cholera outbreak (which happens once every two years), Placido lost both his parents, his birth-ridden melancholy increasing. Doña Anita took him in, somehow pretending he has been someone else named Emmanuel. Placido, who has never cared, continued his aloof involment to social structures, to his family, and to his own life. One uncle suggested Placido be sent to Manila, as a smart man of his calibre deserves to be educated in Universidad de Santo Tomas. Placido guesses the uncle wanted him gone from the Hacienda to finally put the spotlight to his own son, a snobby teenager who hates being called 'Indio'. The teen had called Placido the term multiple times, and finally gave up when the young man could not be bothered to react.

Now 18 and still in UST, Placido smells an impending revolutionary failure, the stench even stronger in Manila, and in the very University he is in. He could chose not to care, however, he is being dragged down with the rumors, his name appearing in one or two lists being paraded by the Friars. It is, indeed, just a scare-tactic to warn real members of the revolution, but to what end, but his suffering, when he did nothing?

Christmas has come once again, and he went home as per special request by the Doña. He could refuse as an adult, so the Donya pleaded, even saying he could bring someone from Manila if that could make him come home. 

Doña Anita was as aloof as his own father, making him very comfortable with the widowed woman. In this light, Placido wondered on the 'pleading' tone of the letter, with a little request that says he burn it after reading. Doña Anita never pleaded, and Doña Anita could not have joined any underground operation to ask for such descreetion. 

The first thing after dawn, he packed his bag, Juanito Pelaez following him.

Juanito has not been invited. Placido would never want a headache following him in his family's peaceful, and somehow gothic, fuedal property. The young man who called him "Amigo" in annoyingly endless times, has been insistent and terribly bored. 

Juanito, who cannot ever accept a refusal.

Juanito, who glued himself to Placido.

Juanito, who needed saving.

The young man has also been an easy target for the Friars. A prankster and a son of a capitalist---natural enemy of the state and the church for being an Indio with power, his name is easy to pull out from the febble minds of the professors who are as bored as him. If he stays in the Manila for Christmas, the rumors of his involvement might strengthen. He decided to go to Batanggas with Placido, with a sharky smile hiding nervousness. 

Placido sighed and let him hop along.

*

Being a whimsical man, Juanito asked to be left in Sta. Rosa, a city just sitting in the borders of Laguna and Manila. Isagani, Basilio, and Paulita were reportedly around the area, so Placido rode away from the place with a nod, but with a heavy heart. 

He thought the uncomfortable stench would diminish the farther Manila gets, but for some reasons, it's only getting worse.

*

Placido reached Batanggas in the second night of the journey. Many servants were still awake, probably told to wait for his arrival to help his heavy loads. Sadly for them, Placido travels light, only with him were sketchbooks, three novelas, and a duffel bag of clothes. 

It seems Doña Anita has already slept, and that also means he will be fetched early morning for the talk she so desires. It was not mentioned in the letter, but he feels there is an emergency. 

After bathing, Placido tackles the long wooden hallways towards the quarters. The sea shell translucent windows were already close, but at the end of the hallway, a single window is open, with a tall 40-ish man resting both his arms on the sill.

"Buenos Noches, Señor." he greeted lowly, and in whisper. Not that he cared for the man who is probably a guest, but he is standing right in front of his room. 

The man stares at him, in a movement filled with care and gentleness. The moonlight has exposed his beautiful face, with a sadness he usually see from his father, his mother, his auntie, and his own. It was easy to connect the dots from there.

"Are you Señor Emmanuel Penitente De Los Santos?"

The man nodded. 

In closer look, the could see a long scar running from his brow and across his eye. His left cheek has a small x-mark, and his neck has a dent. If he knows better, it could be a bullet wound.

A revolutionario, no doubt.

Could he be the heavy stench he detected?

"Placido Penitente, I assume?" Señor Emmanuel spoke, and his voice is mature and low. A sorrowful tenor, just like a normal melancholic Penitente. Placido nodded at the question, and the man looked at the sky again. "Isn't the moon too bright, Placido?"

"Indeed. And I hate that it shines directly unto my quarters. It might be harder for me to sleep."

The man smiled. "I know a man who would love to have the moon in their quarters. He would probably make a poem under it."

Placido's mind momentarily flashed an image of a certain grinning idiot. That made him smile the same, with a pang of fear for the man. "I know one, too. He's the type to romanticize life. Also the type to attract unwanted attention."

"And the type to crash down heavily." Señor Emmanuel supplied.

Placido's eyes furrowed, which was probably the most expression he had since 16. It is hard not to conclude, that with the current events, with the sudden heavy burden loaded into the narrow shoulders of young men such as him and Juanito Pelaez, things might turn sour and they might all crash down heavily. He is suddenly concerned for his friend who seems to be hanging in the thinnest thread he could find. "Can you bring him back? That friend of yours?"

"Afraid for your own friend?" the man inquired with intrigue. When he was met with the youth's serious stare, he sighed. "I hope to bring him back, but most of all, I hope for his retribution."

"Must be a revolutionario like you, huh? So we will all go down there, whether we are colonialist, nationalist, or pragmatic. Is that the reason why Doña Anita request for my presense?"

The man only nodded. "She wants you safe. Manila is turning into an open battle field, Batanggas is not safe either, but at least the villa could protect you. I also need you here."

*

In the morning, Doña Anita decided to stay in her quarters. The maids say she was sick and sad, and sadness is a serious condition among Penitentes that could affect health. If you live your life in constant sadness, and one day, you express your sadness, is that not a very grave gloom that an average human would find hard to handle?

Doña Anita's son, just newly found, will probably join the revolution again, but this time with more expected violence. Underground information system is not enough. There needs to be blood.

"Will you go back to Manila, Señor?" Placido asks while he writes a letter to be sent to Juanito. He will be asking him to continue the journey to Batanggas, to be with him. 

"No need. The fight is not just in Manila. The concentration will be in Cavite, and the intellectual roads will be in the hidden Villas of Laguna and Batanggas"

"Intellectual roads?" Placido stops writing, afraid his letter will not be needed anymore. If Batanggas is no longer safe, then there's no point.

"Intellectual roads, hijo. It's were we will be drafting the first independent government. The proponents and intellectuals must be scattered to avoid its complete lost."

"Independent Government" Placido stated in disbelief.

The man side-eyed him. "We all are used to the failed revolutions that even the thought of an independent government seems impossible. Gabriela Silang's revolution would have won if only the British did not come out of nowehere. The Filipinos are just unlucky."

"And what makes you think we will be lucky this time?"

"Nationalism, it seems, is not enough. There has to be personal vengance."

Placido dropped the quilt and crumpled the paper. There really is no point sending a letter to Sta. Rosa if it could reach after five days at most. He will go to Sta. Rosa himself.

Revolution rooted from personal vengance is a violent revolution. There's no heart in it. The flames will be cold and uncaring, and anyone who steps in the path of a vengeful man, Castilla or not, will be burned.

"I need to go to Sta. Rosa. My friend is there."

The man stared at his sudden disbelief. He almost wants to laugh. "You have a friend? Penitentes don't have 'friends'"

"He's more of an annoyance to me." he says before he leaves to the stables for the fastest horse. "Didn't you have an annoyance before?"

*

He arrived in Santa Rosa after 23 hours, with breaks and food, but not with sleep. The Pelaez family is a grand family with connection concentrated in each town's centro, and so he started in the Oficina de Municipalidad. There, he immediately found someone familiar.

"Basilio?" he said to young man his age, who's eyes were usually kind, but now it screams retribution.

"Placido." Basilio pulled him by the arm to level his mouth Placido, who was half a head taller. "You better leave this city immediately."

"Why?"

"There is no god here, and if you seek for mercy, do not expect a reply."

Thankfully, no Guardia Civil saw them talking, and if Placido could overthink, he'd think Basillo learned the blind-spot of the city in just a month. 

Basillo went out of the municipal building with eyes so serious as if it was looking intently at the sun, and Placido went in further with worry and nervousness that spikes even higher than before. 

The office is bustling with people coming in for complaints and men processing papers a bit too loudly. He learned a couple of things just by lining up to the Mayor's office. From gossiping people, and from the workers coming in and out the doors to file complicated documents.

Basilio was framed of murder.

An influential man, a Captain-General, helped him out.

And Paulita Gomez, the town's dream girl, the one dubbed as the new Maria Clara, will finally be married to a rich man.

It seems Isagani was not approved not only by Paulita's family, but by Paulita herself. 

"I'm Placido Penitente from Batanggas." He introduced himself when he finally reached the Mayor's office.

"I see, a Penitente. Tell Doña Anita I wish her a good recovery. She's been sick, has she not?"

"Words do travel fast in Santa Rosa. I will mention you to Doña Anita, Mayor. I'm here to inquire about certain events in the centro, such as Juanito Pelaez's whereabouts. I just came from Lipa, and unlike Santa Rosa, news and letters are hard to come by."

The Mayor blew from his Tobacco, looking at him as if he knows something more. "His father is my close my Cumpadre. We know you are Juanito's best friend, as he was always gushing about you. When we asked if we must send you a letter, he insisted we do not invite you, and that we must not inform you no matter what. What happened?"

Placido was speechless. His wedding? Right when he learned about Paulita's wedding? There could be countless possibilities, but he could only conclude that Juanito is the rich man that is to be Paulita's groom. 

And to add to this mysterious information, because there is no way he could have seen that coming, he is puzzled by the fact that first, Juanito considers him a best friend, but second, he does not want to be invited to his wedding.

Nothing could prepare him for anything anymore.

"Mayor, you must know of Juanito's whims, as he is your godson. He's probably afraid that I scold him if he makes me run from Batanggas to Laguna in such a short notice."

"Aye, he did say you scold a lot." the Mayor laughed.

"I will not scold him for this wedding, I promise. I will congratulate him accordingly, check on our other friends through him, and will go on my way to Lipa."

"But I do not want to upset my godson, if ever you are lying."

"Very well."

Placido is not the type to push, not when he knew someone could be a more reliable carrier of information, and would not broadcast suspicion. At least he knew where Isagani lives. It is quite far, but his horse could run fast.

*

The road to Biñan, a bustling municipality, is not as fortified as the roads in Manila and Santa Rosa. He had to pass a windy dirtroad bound to give complications upon his eyesight. His horse, for most part, has decided to thread the dirt slower than usual, and with that, Placido could not complain.

He reaches Isagani's casa, which was situated only a block from the Church of San Isidro Labrador. Isagani's real family lies in the social thread above street merchantilism for having a well-acclaimed pottery house, which would still not be enough to send him to Universidad de Santo Tomas. Luckily, despite all, Padre Florentino had always wanted Isagani's well life first. His wish to become a lawyer would never be forseen if not.

He found a nearby horse stable, quite overpriced, but nothing he could not afford. The walk to Isagani's house was short, and when he reached the house, he saw Isagani working in front of a pottery wheel, his hands muddy and his eyes forlorn. 

"Isagani." He called from their open door.

Isagani looked up to the familiar voice. "Placido? What are you doing here?"

Isagani stood up and made vague gesture to invite Placido in the casa. Placido removed his hat and invited himself in, making a slight bow to noone in particular. "I would ask about an insensitive topic, Isagani, but seeing you work made me think to commission you for a coffee pot."

"You can ask directly, mi amigo. About the insensitive topic, I mean. Though I know you only want to ask about Juanito." Isagani stated, eyes so gentle, but casting down as he trails the last words. 

"I know about Juanito already," He lied, letting his focus shift for the moment. "I'm here for you, amigo."

Isagani smiles, then gestures again to lead him to the upstairs guest room.

*

"You rode on horseback for 23 hours?" Isagani asks in shock while serving the merienda tray. Placido observed the coffee pot and small mugs, making him think those are his family's products. Polished and well-made, just like everything in Isagani's life. He may have been sectarian, but the man has tastes. 

"I'm sorry I have not bought Barako coffee. I was in a hurry."

"Oh, nevermind about that. To be honest, I don't think we are too close to be giving each other pasalubong, Placido suplado." Isagani flays his hand, then sits down opposite to Placido.

"How can we be close when Basilio hogs your attention all the time?" Placido jests, careful not to drop another name, the true hogger of Isagani's attention: Paulita Gomez. 

"And Juanito does the same to you!" Isagani laughs. This laugh dwindles down almost immediately. "I heard Basilio was incarcerated. I really don't know what's going on now. My love and my bestfriend, both taken away from me. This holiday has been the least joyful. We are young, yet under the pressure of adulthood."

"And I thought you are the most-prepared among us when it comes to adulthood. Were not you ready to run away with Paulita?" Placido sighs of his mistake to mention a name. With the coffee mug on his lips, acting natural, he shifts the conversation to something more important. "Basilio was released immediately. Do not worry, Isagani."

"Released? How?"

"A capitan-general helped."

Isagani grunts, though not in anger, but in the same surrender he has been carrying since Placido disturbed his abode. It is odd, he thinks. "It's that jeweler, I know. Nothing good has ever happened since I saw him. He is connected to everything I find sorrowful in my life just recently. Do you know he will be the organizer of Paulita and Juanito's wedding? Distasteful!"

"Understandable. The wedding will be attended by politicians and businessmen around the area. It must be grand."

"That man just came from Francia and España and think he can meddle in a small colony as much as he can. Men like him are the reason why revolution will be imminent." Ah, there he is. The idealistic Isagani he knows.

Placido drinks his coffee while taking in Isagani's rage. "Why don't we attend it? You see Paulita, and I see Juanito."

Isagani sighs again. "I am not invited, but oddly enough, Basilio was. But that was before the trial. Maybe he is still invited, would you like to see him?"

Placido recalls Basilio in Santa Rosa. Hateful, bitter, but not yet mad. The young man has been smaller than most men despite the industrious character. He had such gentle eyes and kindest words, that even when most boys his size would be bullied, he was well-liked instead. Another fact could be added, however. Isagani, who was educated in the same convent in their earlier years, was a naturally protective friend who was always on Basilio's side to glare at those who bother. 

Placido was aloof, but heavily observant. The boys in UST are talkative, and they talk about their childhood a lot as it hold many evidences of upper-class culture. Isagani and Basilio were the poorest students, (Placido was assumed to be poor as well, as his hair has always been left by itself) and with that, they decided to stick together, probably practicing to charm or to be feared despite their disposition.

It is hard to imagine the two being separated. Two (hopefully) separate events had divided them naturally. Basilio will ask for retribution, Isagani will ask for isolation, and Placido... What of Placido? In hurry, he came to Santa Rosa to bring Juanito with him in Batanggas. What an idiotic impulsivity.

"Isagani, let us go to Batanggas. I'll buy you a horse, then we will rush to hide in our Villa."

Isagani looks at him quizically. "I don't think these events warrant a hiding, Placido, though I am flattered you consider me a close friend." He smiles as he reaches for the empty coffee mugs to place them in the dirty kitchen. "My father is in Cavite for the moment... to teach pottery to the common folks. I should stay to watch over the house."

Placido nods. The young man had only found his real father who is still wrapped around in mystery. It shocks Placido to know that Isagani would perform his duty as a son, despite his forward idealism. Maybe all those travelling around with Padre Florentino tired him out, that any vague symbolism of static asset grounds him.

"But I can make a short trip to Santa Rosa." Isagani continues.

"I changed my mind. I would rather we stay here and forget about everything."

Isagani agrees with a bitter smile.

*

Isagani has accomodated Placido well-enough for two days. Placido wrote letters to be sent to Doña Anita about his vacation in Laguna. He kept them un-political, as if he was just a boy resting in an active principalia, for two purposes. One, is to provide ease to the Doña that he is nothing but a young man enjoying his youth, two, to be an assurance to the government incase they are currently intercepting letters. With the increasing number of Spanish-born guardia civiles in the streets, no nook and cranny is safe.

Isagani is no one but a potter in the eyes of the people of Biñan. A new boy, but a long-lost son of a local resident, Isagani was quick to have secured reputation. His house is very safe. He continued his household and business tasks, and has once or twice reprimanded Placido for not doing anything helpful. Taking care of a casa is harder than most think, but it is anything Placido would have preferred. A quiet household, mundane tasks, and occassional witty banter with a former-optimist. 

Until the next day, Señor Emmanuel decided to visit Isagani's house.

Placido opened the door, but had no plan to invite him in. The man invited himself nonetheless. Isagani, bless his kind heart, prepared snacks right away.

"Are you done playing house? Surprisingly this man is not Juanito. Never pegged you to be the kind of man whose heart change quick."

"What are you doing here?" Placido glares

"Are you not going to invite me to the guest receiving room? I thought we are friendly." The man circled himself around Placido, who looked annoyed and defensive.

"This is not my house, and you should not have come in. The guardia civiles are roaming around, anyone who looks suspiscious could be arrested."

"I understand I look suspiscious, I apologize." The man geniunely says. "But I need to bring you to Santa Rosa, as someone who knows Juanito. I need intel about that party."

Placido glances at the closed door, afraid that anyone with ears would hear them. He dragged the man upstairs to the guest receiving room, where Isagani has finished preparing an afternoon merienda. "Señor!' Isagani started. "You look like a clean shaven, older Placido! You must be a relative?"

"Buenos Tardes, Senorito. Apologies for barging in your house."

"Oh, but you are more polite than Placido! Maybe he could learn a thing or two from you." Isagani laughs facing the subtly groaning Placido. "What do you need? Are you going to take him away?"

"I'm afraid I have to, Señorito. He will come back if his heart reaches immensely."

"Oh, we do not..."

"We are not cohabitating romantically, Señor Emmanuel." Placido declares with a grunt.

"A shame. A joyous boy with gentle eyes fits you perfectly."

Placido and Isagani would have retorted yet again, but the doors made noises repeatedly, and unfortunately, the angry banging does not seem to belong to a customer.

"Isagani Catindig, we are inviting you for an interrogation about your involvement to terrorism." says a soldier in Spanish.

The stench has been there, the stench of a failed revolution that has been adamant to seek Placido when he thought he could finally lie down in a place he thought was safe. Though, he tells himself, he must stop just thinking about himself. Isagani is probably breaking down inside.

When he looks over the place where Isagani is planted, he saw not a fearful boy, but a courageous young man. He'd rather he was the first.

"Isagani, we must run. Where is your backdoor?"

"No." Isagani looks at him. "I will prove that I have no involvement in anything whatsoever. I can defend myself."

"Amigo, it is not the time we act herioc. Or better yet, let Señor Emmanuel handle this. He's an adult!"

"But aren't we adults of our own responsibility, Placido?" Isagani smiles. "I can prove that I have nothing to do with my father's activities."

"Your father?"

Isagani nods. "My father is helping revolutionarios in Cavite by making bombs using pottery."

"Isagani!" Placido slides his hands over his long curls, disheaveling them in bewilderment.

"Señorito, I don't think you can defend yourself from this." Senor Emanuel interected.

The guardia civil from outside the door began pounding the heavy wood with something metal. Soon enough, the hinges will fall over, and it will only be god who can save them.

"I will answer the door, you two use the back door." Isagani pushes.

"No, you can't Isagani, come with me!" Placido pleads.

"Save Basilio for me."

Señor Emmanuel pulled Placido towards the backdoor, while Isagani bravely opens the front door. Placido had not seen the events after, and with stealthy movements around the market, they reached the stables quick.

The ride to Santa Rosa was spent in a daze, as Placido barely latches unto his horse. His memory replays Isagani's scarily optimistic eyes, but he is not sure whether those eyes meant he's positive he can get out, or that he's certain his eventual death will mean something.

There are many martyrs not recorded by history, and Isagani will be one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexy chapter ahead.


	2. Santa Rosa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it would be helpful to look at the map of Southern Tagalog (Calabarzon). 
> 
> Nonetheless, here's a quick summary of the geography.
> 
> Biñan and Santa Rosa are old municipalities in the northern part of Laguna, and they are extremely close to Cavite and Manila.
> 
> Cavite is at the southwest of Manila and at the left of Laguna. 
> 
> Batangas (Batanggas) is situated at the South of both Laguna and Cavite. Lipa is a municipality of Batangas. 
> 
> Tayabas was at the south of Batangas. It is now called Quezon Province. 
> 
> Balintawak was in Manila. It is now called Quezon City (according to google, though it was giving me drunk answers)

Placido and Señor Emmanuel traveled 30 minutes more while trying to avert the tightening security of the road between Santa Rosa and Biñan. This road has immediate access to Manila and Cavite, and everyone suspicious enough are investigated. 

After a while, they reached the humid dirt road nobody would ever try to post unto. The harsh openness of the landscape let the beaming sun worsen whatever travel comfort they had. To preserve the energy of the horses, they decided to let them stroll. They were followed by the silence, with only the wind singing loneliness, occasionally escorting dirt to their dry eyes. 

"Why do you need information about that wedding feast? Never thought you would be an enthusiast of afternoon rumors." Placido broke the silence with an inquiry. 

Señor Emmanuel replied. "Beware of afternoon rumors, young Penitente. They are the vital networks of our fight."

"I see." the teen pondered. "I wish to know the information I need to get, and to whom will I get them from." 

"I want you to know everything about the wedding organizer's plan. His name is Simoun." With the mention of the name, the ever observant young man caught the subtle change in his uncle's expression. 

"This Simoun a dear friend of yours? Is he the idiot who would romanticize the moonlight?" 

"Was." he muttered. 

*

They changed their clothings, something that speaks middle-class, to avoid garnering unwanted attention, and to avoid being bullied by new foreign Guardia Civiles who will accuse someone poor enough of rebellion, as no one will defend for them. It was the truth Placido has been awake for. 

The Centro is bustling with merchants and heavy carros from Manila, possibly carrying all the materials needed for the biggest wedding feast. Ironically, the events place will be Capitan Tiago's former abode that is currently owned by Don Timoteo Pelaez, Juanito's father. 

The two sat down in an eatery just sitting right in front of the lavish Casa. Señor Emmanuel was observant, with his eyes glued to the entrance and to all the windows; definitely looking for someone. 

Placido lets him be, his heart and attention not entirely poured unto this thing; this very thing he had been avoiding by skipping classes and leaving Manila whenever the stench arises. And now it follows him, but he still wishes not to care. 

One of the doors of the Casa opened, and with the Señor's reaction, Placido had been compelled to look. Señor Emmanuel was disappointed but Placido's eyes widen as he stands up abruptly to get out of the eatery. 

"Juanito!" Placido yelled, though not enough to get anyone's attention. 

Juanito looked back with the familiarity of the voice. It was a mistake, he thought, as he knows who owned it. He ran away using an eskenita beside the house. 

Placido wondered why Juanito would run away yet he follows promptly. Juanito is not a very fast runner, so Placido had caught up to him and uses his muscular arms to halt the boy against the wall. The wall is large and cold; they don't have to ask to know it is a Church. 

"Juanito, why did you run away? Why would you not desire me in your wedding? WHY ARE YOU MARRYING PAULITA GOMEZ!" 

Juanito is gasping for air, both from exhaustion and from emotional bewilderment. "Why are you here?" 

Why was he here, Placido had shortly asked himself. He came here to agree with his Uncle's wishes, to do a task he does not even want to do. He could have just averted the favor, but something compels him to go to Santa Rosa, and it was this young man. 

"I'm here for you." He reasoned, the truth finally freeing his long-standing internal conflict. "Let's go to Batanggas." 

"I can't." Juanito begins to sob. "I so wanted to run with you, Placido, but I must perform my duties to my family. The government is already investigating my family's involvement with the possible rebellion. But we are innocent, and this is the only way to prove it!" 

"So you do not really love Paulita?" 

"I do not. It is you I love!" Juanito cried, frustrated. His tears immediately stopped when Placido's face covered his own, his lips slamming them both unto the wall. 

Placido's kiss was a joyful one. It signifies relief, longing, and love, and Juanito is quick to melt right into it. He circled his hands around Placido's neck to lock themselves further. 

It started with chastefulness, but when Juanito pushed Placido to give him hungriness from mere sight alone, Placido ushered him to the backdoor near them. There was another wall inside the church, but smoother than the one outside. Behind the wall, a mass can be heard, with a Friar angrily talking against the rebels to the people who are mostly clueless about an impending uprising. By the volume of the Friar's voice, Placido could tell they are directly behind the tabernacle. He does not care. 

He pushed Juanito against the wall, while Juanito accepted the force and draped his back along the wall for Placido's easy access to his lips and to his groin. Placido kissed him again, this time more passionate and lustful. Their clothed privates brush repeatedly, Placido finding a rhythm they both enjoy. Juanito was moaning, but to lessen it, he searches for the larger man's lips to cover his own. 

The mass had lasted for two more hours. The Sacristans and the Friar visited the back to place the huge amount of mass offerings, but they will never know the passion that had conspired on those very walls. 

*

"Why can you not go to Simoun yourself? If you are really serious about helping our country, why not do this on your own?" Placido asks Señor Emmanuel while he removes dust from the rented bed. 

Señor Emmanuel, who had long settled down as he waits for his nephew, only glances at him. "Was the other young man you chased your Juanito? It seems you had fun." 

Placido swallowed, his cheeks turning slightly red with the memory. "Do not deflect the question, Señor. Why can't you show yourself to Simoun?" 

Señor Emmanuel's breathing evened as he stares at the ceiling seriously. Placido could tell he's reminiscing, for those are the same eyes Doña Anita shows when she's staring out the window. "His real name is Juan Crisostomo Ybarramendia."

Placido stops dusting away his sheets. He sits on it, staring at his uncle in disbelief. "Señor Ybarra? That suspicious old man?" He then trailed the rest of his words in whispers. "I thought he's dead?" 

"I saved him that night." 

That would be ten years ago, Placido did the math in his head. Where Señor Emmanuel would have been all these time, he does not care. "And he thought you are dead." 

Placido took the Señor's silence as an affirmation. 

"So then just show yourself to him!"

"And dim the fire of vengeance in his heart?" 

"He's suffering!" 

"So is the motherland." 

Placido sighs in anger. He dusts his bed more, making sure some of it would be directed to his uncle. "How dare you let your friend, who I am sure was more than a friend, undergo such turmoil? Señora Maria Clara is dead, he has no one left! Surely you could just be there to comfort him..." 

"Before you continue your long rant, young Penitente, I must point out that your sudden passion for a person is probably influenced by your most recent romantic experiences. Please, do not let the cloud of 'promising eternal life' blind you. You might lose your focus, give your life to something that is only temporary."

Placido does not understand the cynicism. He grunts and slamms his head unto the pillow, looking away from his uncle, who is still seriously staring at the ceiling. 

The moonlight brightly covers them both. Señor Emmanuel felt sad under it, while Placido hated every second he is awake that the moonlight does not let him sleep. 

*

Santa Rosa, being one of the oldest principalia in Laguna, has many vintage sights and architecture, partnered with active markets and plazas. 

Juanito and Placido walked around, constantly reminiscing the time they were in Manila. Placido knows more about Santa Rosa textbook-wise, and so he acts like a tour guide to Juanito who only came here to wed. 

Whenever they find an empty eskenita, they pull a little private stunt, but never beyond what they did behind the tabernacle of Santa Rosa de Lima Parish. They kiss, and it would last longer and longer the hungrier they get for each other. 

"I was hoping to meet your wedding organizer." Placido decides to ask when the sun was beginning to set. 

"Capitan-General Simoun? Why ever? Would you like to attend my wedding?" 

"Why would I not? I will support your wedding, because I know your responsibilities and I respect that. I want to help." 

If they were not in the middle of a public plaza, Juanito would have kissed the young man. "Thank you for understanding me." 

"You are brave and selfless Juanito, I never would have done the same. I am ever thankful that I get to be acquainted with you." 

"Do not speak as if I will never see you again." 

"Would you like to see me again, even after your wedding?" 

"Paulita does not love me, her heart will always yearn for Isagani. I am pretty sure she would not mind if I always sneak to date someone else in the plaza." Juanito smiles.

Placido smiles back. 

He has decided. He will see Juanito, everyday, forever. 

He will do everything he can to have Juanito, even if he has to be in the middle of the stench of revolution.

*

They reached the events place when the dusk settled in. Juanito knocks on Simoun's room, letting Placido wait by his side. 

"Buenos Tardes, Señor!" Juanito greeted when the Capitan-General opened his door. 

The man respectfully nods to the Señorito, though Placido knows the man thinks everybody in this wedding is only a chess piece. 

"This is Placido Penitente, a friend of mine from Batanggas. He desires to help the wedding!" 

Simoun looks at Placido, with a pause so long it made the young man wonder. "I could use a help, Señorito Juanito. Is he your friend?" 

"My best friend!"

"But I did not see his name in the invitations." 

"Oh, because..." Juanito trails. 

Placido takes over. "I was from Batanggas and Juanito thought I could not come. But here I am." 

"He surprised me, really. He could have been my best man." 

"I see." Simoun just nods. "Now I must talk to him, for his tasks. Señorito Juanito, I believe your father wants you in your house in Tagapo."

"What? I forgot the fitting of clothes!" Juanito gasps, then looks at Placido in apology. 

Placido gave a nod of understanding. When Juanito's footsteps echo away, Simoun, who was still standing on his door entrance, scoots the young man in. 

"You look familiar." Simoun starts. He takes a chair from his lamesita and sits on it, continuing his head to toe observation of the new boy. "Care to enlighten me?" 

"They do say I look like my Uncle who died ten years ago." 

"Your uncle." 

"Si. Señor Emmanuel Penitente de Los Santos, does he ring any bell?" Placido challenged. 

The Capitan-General shakes his head. 

"I heard he went by another name when he was a rebel in the mountains, organizing an underground information system against the Spaniards." 

Simoun nods. "I know who you look like, but I never knew he went by another name. Pray tell, kid, do you know me?" 

"Are you going to hurt me if I know?" 

"It depends on your purpose for coming here."

"Very well." Placido walks closer to man. "I am here to avenge my uncle, the farmers that have died in Batanggas, and myself. I know you are operating a rebellion Señor, and I want to be a part of it." 

Simoun replied him with a look, melancholic yet serious, something he has been seeing everyday recently. "You are very young." 

"So are most people who will be affected by the revolution. But aren't we adults of our own responsibility?" 

*

Señor Emmanuel and Placido met at an almost empty plaza. The older man was still, listening to the birds and the wind that pass. Some of the ladies would look longer, some men would be interested to pause and start a chat, and some friars would ask of his identity and purpose. He would always say the same, that he's the son of a feudal lord in Tayabas, he's educated in Guam and Spain, and that he's a poet who had published books and sonnets. None of them were true for he is fully educated in his land and he would be very proud if only he does not want to reveal more of his local identity. Saying he's from a foreign land would lessen any more questions, as people does not know enough. 

"What have you learned, young Penitente?" 

"Not much." He grunts. "He's very secretive, only giving minimal tasks to each one. He's given me a task to bring letters to Padre Irene and Parde Florentino 30 minutes before the wedding feast ends. It is definitely peculiar."

"And what are written?" 

"I have no idea." Placido sighs. "What have you learned?" 

"That one orderly of the feast wondered why there are too many gun powder ordered by the Señor, and he explained it will be for the fireworks, the first in the country. And also, there had been officers of rebellion arrested in Balintawak." 

"That does not sound good. Would the rebellion in still Santa Rosa commense?" 

"It seems they were not tied to Simoun, as his name was never mentioned when they confessed. Not even a description." 

"That was a different group then." Placido says in relief. "Simoun has a reason to lessen his contact with his group. He's very cautious and intelligent. I feel like we could win." 

"Do not lower your guard, and do not count your chickens before they hatch. Whether things are optimistic or not, I suggest you make a plan of your own just in case." 

Placido pondered on that, as he agrees in every way. "Have you?" 

Señor Emmanuel nods. 

"Will you ever tell me?" 

"No." 

"Fair." 

However, Placido thinks it was unfair that adults around him would take advantage of his energy while not telling him all. He felt like a child, being told to cut vegetables as they refuse to inform him what is cooking. 

It does not matter. He has decided to cook something to the side. He has his own purpose, and the motherland, that one concept he had given up long ago, is the least of them. 

*

Juanito was disposed to his groomly duties in Tagapo. Though a mere 2 kilometer walking distance from the Centro, he could not really make time for Placido. The young man shrugged it off, saying they could make more time when everything is done. Juanito just smiles, giving him a kiss before he waves goodbye. 

Walking around the Centro to buy things for Simoun, Placido saw Basilio upon the steps of the plaza, looking at one spot from a far. The last time he saw the man, he has this uncontainable anger enough to light a fire. Now, not much has changed, but this time, he looks pondering, thinking deep that his forehead might carry that crease permanently. 

"Basilio," Placido calls. 

The young man his age, smaller and thinner, looks at him slowly. "Placido, I see you stayed when I told you to leave." 

"I left for a while, visited Biñan," He sits beside him. "But I came back for Juanito." 

"To sweep him off his feet? I knew you two are closer than 'close friends'."

"No. I came to assist for his wedding. I have been working for Simoun." 

With that name, Basilio perked to look over him in confusion. "Do you know him?" 

"Do you?" Placido returns the question, smiling smugly. 

Basilio goes back to looking away, this time to a certain pavement brick, scrutinizing it heavily. "You do not seem to be the type. Tell me, what task has he given you?" 

"To send a letter to some Friars. You?" 

Basilio shrugged. "It does not make sense. Mine was to dim a gas lamp 30 minutes before the wedding party ends." 

Placido quickly remembers the other words his uncle said, things he should have asked about further. The Capitan-General ordered vast amounts of gun-powder for the said fireworks, though there have been no set-up yet when the wedding feast is tomorrow. They are not for the fireworks, they are explosives. A bomb? Why not order a bomb right away that they can disguise as pots. Surely, a Potter like Isagani's father would have an idea. 

They would not need a bomb. The whole place is a bomb. The place will be littered with gun-powders, and when the gas lamp has been dimmed, someone else will lighten it up. At certain lenght, the gas lamp could spark if it was rigged with more gun-powder. It will cause a huge explosion and everyone will die. 

Juanito can die. 

"Basilio, listen," Placido whispers hurriedly. "That gas lamp will spark a huge explosion. You must signal me and Juanito before you do your task so we could leave." 

"How do you know this?" 

"My uncle stalks that broody weirdo." 

Basilio raises his eyebrows. "You call someone else a broody weirdo?" 

Placido knows what he's talking about, with them being classmates to one or two classes in UST. "The thing is, people will die, but the three of us must get out before things start to spark." 

"And how about everyone else?" 

"Would you need to care? No rebellion will start if everybody lives." 

"But Paulita... Isagani's love..."

"Listen, Basilio," Placido sighs, his eyes mourn, remembering Isagani's last resolve. (Save Basilio for me), "Isagani is dead." 

It took a full minute for Basilio to comprehend the news. Poor young man, his love, Juli, committed suicide. Bringing this news felt like being a God of death. "Isagani? Why?" His eyes begun to flood water that Placido could not bear to look at. 

"His father was accused of rebellion. They took him in for interrogation, but we know what that actually meant. He died before we could even leave Biñan."

Basilio continued crying, and Placido was not even sure if he listened. 

"Basilio..." 

The young man covered his face with his palms and rested them on his knees. "Please leave me." 

Placido slowly stood up, but not before continuing, "We could never peacefully exist in chaos that drapes itself with priviledge. All of this has to end." 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reaching this far despite the boring first chapter.
> 
> Please leave a comment or kudos. You are free to correct me if I'm wrong about historical inaccuracies. 
> 
> My tumblr is ano-po@tumblr.com


	3. Cavite

[Simoun] 

The wedding feast has started, and Placido was nowhere in the reception. Simoun has been looking for him to make him deliver the letters, but to his anger, he paced here and there to look for the boy. 

The feast has been successful so far, but the 30 minutes mark was about to come and his men are already positioned in Cavite, Biñan, and Manila to storm Santa Rosa, Cabuyao, and Intramuros. Everything is in place, all he needs to do is to reveal himself to Padre Irene and give a signal for Padre Florentino to accept him in his hiding place nearby.

The guests have been stopping him every now and then to praise the party and his lavish gift, a gas light he designed himself. He gives the same smile, the same politeness, but he so wants to snap at them for always taking his time. Paulita Gomez and Juanito Pelaez look the same, they smile for everyone but they do not stand close as usual lovers do. Strange, but that concern is not in his mental space right now. 

Abruptly, the door was knocked by a strong voice. The wedding party stopped for a while to see the intruder, with the rondalia ensemble halting. One maid opened the door to peak, but it was fully opened by the men behind it. 

There standing was a large group of Guardia Civilies with their heavy guns and swords. In the middle was Placido Penitente, who seemed to have guided them here. In panic and distress, Simoun ran away using the backdoor. Letter be damned, he will go straight to Padre Florentino's casa in Cavite. 

*

[Juanito] 

Juanito could not even look at his bride, who smiles the same way as him. He aches for Placido, he aches for himself, and for Paulita and Isagani. One time, Doña Victorina gushed them in front of some rich guests from Balintawak, and urged them to kiss. Paulita strongly refused, saying they are too young to show affection in public. How admirable. 

He has been looking all over the place to look for Placido, only to be motivated at the very sight of him. He has fallen helplessly inlove with the man, and he is ready to sin in the eyes of God if it meant he could kiss the man with his wedding ring on. 

His thoughts were abruptly stopped when a large group of Guardia Civilies entered the wedding party. He could have called the organizer to talk to them, but Simoun is nowhere to be found. Placido was near the armed group, and when he was about to shout for his name, Basilio already got his arm to pull him to the nearest dark hallway. Jealousy arises within him, though he acknowledged that the possibility is irrational. 

"Buenos Noches! We received a report that a group of rebels will attack this party." The head of the armed men announces, to which the guests gasped and murmured. "We would be stationing around the place to catch them, and protect you all, as I am informed that many important personalities are the attendants. Do not worry, many are already stationed outside, and we would also like to request that none of you get out in case someone is an insider."

Juanito cannot point out the following reactions of the guests. He did not care. He went to follow Placido and Basilio, who halted at the end of one hallway. 

"What are they doing here? Why did you call them, Placido!?" Basilio whispered, but his anger was making him yell a bit. 

"Think about it, Basilio. If most of the force is here, then we have great advantage!" Placido grunts. 

Juanito walks silently towards them, "What advantage? What is happening?" 

Basilio and Placido stare at each other, until Basilio speaks up, "We will blow this whole place up." 

"What?" Juanito almost yelled, but Placido placed a hand on his mouth and gestured to lower his voice. 

"Why the hell would you say that, Basilio!" Placido complains. 

"Why not? You will take him away from here anyway." 

"But not now!" 

Juanito snapped Placido's hands away. "So you are the rebels! And you plan to kill everyone but yourself and me? How about my family? How about Paulita? How about everyone else who is innocent? Tell me, Placido!" 

Another set of foot steps has come, and at this point, Placido was ready to just stab anyone, Juanito could tell as he reaches to one of his pocket to reveal a knife. Not until they saw it was just Paulita, who will most likely tell everyone. 

[Paulita] 

Paulita and Isagani were a couple in constant quarell, with Isagani's idealism and Paulita's cynicism, their views clash more often than not. Not now, however. Paulita Gomez, entitled, snubby, and manipulative, laments her marriage with someone who is not the man she adores. She will never have a bright future with Isagani. Her usual lifestyle, of carriages, sweets, and beautiful dresses, will probably be downgraded if she marries Isagani instead. Nonetheless, the breaking of their promise, though expected, saddens her. 

Some days before the wedding, she wanted to release all of her heartache to her bestfriend, Juliana. Her carriage was not permitted to go further because a funeral service was blocking the road. She was about to go down to reprimand the family that dares stop her carriage, yet, she almost passed out when she learned the one inside the casket was no other than her closest confidant, the ever gentle and loving Juli.

The death of Juli depressed her more. It woke her up to the fact that life is unfair in the Philippines. She has every priviledge any girl would want, only because of her skin colour and societal standing. Dear Juli committed suicide, no details were given, but she knows there was injustice somewhere. It depresses her to think that someday, she might fall unto the same fate for being a peninsulares. She heard about Señora Maria Clara, who committed suicide as well, but her poor body told otherwise. She will have no voice if she enters the same fate. No one can win against the Friars and all the officials whose skin colors bear power. 

When the group of Guardia Civiles barged in her wedding party, she felt irritated that her long sequence of self-pity has been interrupted. She was thinking about Isagani and Juli's smiles that would make her day. 

When the men settled around the party, even having audacity to eat some of the food, Juanito followed Basilio and Placido who went towards the hallway leading to the parlor. She followed quietly, not wanting attention, because the Bride and the Groom are supposed to be together in the entirety of the party, or else there will be badluck.

"So you are the rebels! And you plan to kill everyone but yourself and me? How about my family? How about Paulita? How about everyone else who is innocent? Tell me, Placido!" She heard Juanito whisper in dangerously loud way. 

Paulita came, strangely calm. She saw Placido reach a knife from his pocket, probably ready to stab her, which would not scare her in the slightest. 

Oh she would, the blood would ruin her dress.

"Paulita! I beg you, do not tell everyone." Basilio started. Somehow, she sees Juli in him. Calm and gentle. No wonder why they fit each other so much. At some point she hated Basilio for getting too much of Juli's attention. "We will save you as well, promise." 

"Is Isagani with you, at least? I have something to say." Paulita smiles sadly. 

Basilio's eyes watered quickly, and with that, Paulita almost panicked for the news he is about to bring. "Isagani is dead. The government killed him." 

Paulita's heart clenches even deeper that she almost lost her footing. Her eyes water, her grip to her abaniko tightened until she can hear the wood snap. Sadness, anger, and resolution. Too much emotions for her to handle when she's used to pleasantries.

'Oh Juli, if you were here, you would know what to do.'

"Paulita?" One of them called. 

"The Filipino people will never be free." She starts, her voice wobbling. "As rich indios, even us with Spanish blood, we will still be hunted down, bullied to the ground if they see an opportunity. We will never be free. It is better if we all die here. The gobernadorcillio and the guards are here, let them die. The ignorant rich, let them die. The upper classes who lick the boots of the friars, let them die. This party is a petty display of power, let everyone here die."

For the first time in her life, she addressed herself as Filipino. She has never been passionate, but the drive was satisfying. However, she will never see it through. 

She went to her room to drink poison, waiting for the fire that will consume her dead body. 

*

[Basilio] 

After Paulita's powerful sentiments, she brisked towards her room. For a moment, they were scared that she will announce their involvement in the rebellion, but she only locked her door, not letting anyone in. Juanito remains, nervousness and anger directed to both of them. 

"Well, that is Paulita's resolve, as brave as that is, I will warn everyone..." 

Juanito is not given a chance to continue his rambling as Basilio hit his head with a wooden bucket used for cleaning the floor. Placido moved quickly to catch the passed out young man. 

"What are you thinking!" Placido angrily seeths.

"He's still alive." Basilio calmly announced, putting the bucket back to its place. "I'm a medical student, remember?" 

Placido only grunts. He focuses on Juanito's head to check some bleeding, luckily there is none.

"Now, I will dim the lights. You and Juanito go straight to the stables. Do you know where to go?" 

"Well, we will go to Batanggas." 

"The two of you? In one horse? In the middle of the night? Right after an explosion? I don't think so. Wait for me in the stables. We have a hideout in Cavite." 

Placido nods to that, and goes straight to the stables to nurse Juanito and hide their horses from any of the guests who might survive the initial explosion and steal some horses to run away. 

Basilio walks to the party where everyone has just settled down right after the guards entered and the bride declared that she wishes to be left alone. Naturally, that will give an awkward tension around the place. He goes to the gas lamp and dimmed the lights. 

"Why are you dimming the lights, boy?" One guard asked. 

Basilio goes nervous, but seeing the uniform of the corrupt and bully law enforcers, he forced a smile with a resolve to finish his task. "I just simply think we must lower the lights, it's a superstition around here."He says in Spanish. 

"Really?" The Spanish guard asked, looking at him up and down in a gaze that he cannot point out. "Weird. Who are you boy? Are you from around here?" 

"Yes." He smiles more, charming the man the same way he has been charming his classmates. "I am a medical student. The bride and the groom are my close friends." 

The Spaniard man smirked. "Well, how fitting. We were just looking for a doctor in our ranks."

Basilio has become more furious when the man touched his bottom subtly. This man thinks he can do whatever he wants because he speaks Spanish. He cannot make a great deal off of it or he would, without a doubt, be accused of rebellion if only to save the Spanish man's face. He played it off and slowly backed away. 

"I am delighted to accept the offer. Maybe I will meet you later on to talk about it." He smiles suggestively. 

He walks fast to the stables to catch up with the two. 

In the stables, Placido is still nursing the unconscious Juanito, now tied unto his back. 

"What if he does not wake?" Placido angrily asks. 

"He will, now come on, it would only be about time before someone points out the bullshit I have said to that perverted stupido."

When are already a few hundred yards from the casa, a huge explosion lightened the roads. People scrambled in fear, hiding in their houses or running away. 

Placido looked back to see the ruin, the spark of the revolution. 

Basilio did not, he pursued forward. 

They ride fast towards Cavite, and Basilio is relieved that Placido knows when to slow down when check points are near. 

Cavite is asleep in the dead of the night, and so they left their horses at the entrance of the Barrio to avoid alerting the locals. They need to come in, but they must not let anyone spill anything to the government. From there, Placido carried Juanito on his back up to Padre Florentino's house. 

Basilio used the back door, and quietly led Placido to the guest room where they can rest for a while. As far as he knows, Padre Florentino was not alerted that there will be visitors, thanks to a certain someone who did not accomplish his task. 

Once the two have settled down, Basilio went to Padre Florentino's room, in case he's sleeping, to talk about the favor of letting them hide in his house for a while. However, he is not in his room. At the distance, he heard hushing voices by the kitchen, and it seems they are arguing. Placido appears beside him, telling him by eye-contact that he's heard the voices, too. 

"Well, your stupid nephew ruined everything!" Simoun's voice argues. 

"Clearly you were too skittish to see what was really going on. Let's bet, in a few minutes, your troupe will flood Cavite just like what you have planned. You never changed, Crisostomo." Another familiar voice replies with more calm. 

Placido stands behind him to whisper, "That is my uncle, Señor Emmanuel Penitente de Los Santos."

"No." Basilio revealed himself to the three people in the kitchen, one of them being Padre Florentino. He addresses him with a greeting nod, but his attention is immediately on the well-primed man with rich-looking disposition. "Señor Elias? You're alive?" 

"Apparently." Simoun, or rather, Señor Crisostomo Ybarra, angrily replies for him.

Padre Florentino steps closer to Basilio, cutting between the two arguing men with so much tension that builded up to ten years. "Let's leave the adults to their whining. Basilio, hijo, I have a more important favor for you. Isagani is still incarcerated in the prison of Cavite, please save him."

Basilio's face frowns. "Isagani is still alive? I thought..." He looks over to Placido, who only stares at the ground. 

Elias chuckles. "And so you are like me in the end of the day, young Penitente."

*

"I cannot fathom your immaturity and cold-heartedness to use people's rage for your own gain!" Basilio shouts against the cold air of the road leading to the Centro of Cavite. 

There was no need to lessen their noise, for the rebellion had broke and the streets are wild and hellish. Cavite has the concentration of Guardia Civiles and Spanish soldiers, and that explains that it was given the plentiest fire-power than most provinces.

As they run through the empty eskenitas to avoid the fires and bullets, they continue their banter. 

"In my defence, I have already accepted that Isagani will be dying!" 

"Shut up! If something happens to Isagani because I have not saved him sooner, I will end you!" 

"Why? You will not be able to save him before the explosion anyway!" 

"Ugh, enough. You selfish idiot."

Placido resigns. They both decided to stop the bantering and focus on reaching the centro, which is becoming a harder task. 

The prison was thankfully empty, not even a single guard to look after the prisoners. Upon closer inspection, both of them realized that there are no signs of angry or abandoned prisoners. The cells have been opened, all of them had escaped. 

All but one. 

His cell is open, but the figure who is slumped down facing away from the bars, stays like a dead body. If Basilio had not noticed a slow but steady breathing, he would have left the body alone. He is in a hurry, but his duty as a medic told him to stay. 

The closer he gets to the figure, the greater his heart aches. The build of the man is becoming familiar, and his tired gasping is becoming more painful for him to hear. 

"Isagani?" 

"B-basi..." 

"Do not speak, I will..." Basilio goes to other side of Isagani to inspect his face. What he saw almost made him bawl if not for his practiced professionality when calming down patients in extremely difficult cases. "Isagani, I'm here. You are safe." 

In front him, lying down, is Isagani, though alive, sports a bloody face. The source of the blood comes from both his eyes, which were poked.


	4. Batanggas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They finally reach Batanggas.

Two months after the the spark of the rebellion, the four youth decided to stay in Batanggas, which was heavily protected. Santa Rosa has been the center of the new independent Filipino government, and a formal Philippine military grows every week as the optimism of the Filipinos increase.

Hacienda Penitente has become the center of intellectualism of the movement, with all advice and knowledge on political science being taken from the Matriarch of the Penitentes, Doña Anita. However, due to her old age, she decided to hone the political education of both Placido and Isagani. Basilio decided to be a hard-working medical researcher, and would sometimes be a practicing physician to wounded rebels. 

Basilio nursed Isagani to health, though his vision never returned. He was bloodied and beaten almost to a pulp, and so Basilio never left his side for the first few weeks. Even now that Isagani can stand and walk perfectly, Basilio became his eyes to guide him away from obstacles. Isagani has become fully dependent on Basilio's care, and so he starts to walk on his own with a guiding stick, something that is still failing after 3 days of practicing. 

"I do not mind, Isagani." Basilio once said, getting the stick away from the young man. 

"You have your own life, Basilio. Please live it. You don't need to be stuck taking care of a disabled person." 

"For the love of god, Isagani," Basilio gently pushes some hair away from the taller man's permanently whitened eyes, "Let me. Your safety is my only sanity." 

Juanito on the other hand, had done everything he can avoid Placido whenever possible. He does not eat when he's on the table, he does not wake when he's on the hallway, sitting shamelessly, as if it would garner his pity. Juanito has become miserable, the ghosts of his relatives and friends haunting his mind. He becomes livid whenever he sees Placido, who has long decided to accept whatever kind of outbursts he throw. 

On cold nights, when he fears another explosion would happen without his knowing, taking everyone he cared for, he yearns for Placido's embrace just to know that he is with him, alive, not burnt, and definetely not starting another rebellion. However, he would stop himself. He has been trying his best to forget all the affections he devoted to the man, but his passion, his desirable companionship, is the only thing that would ever satisfy him. 

"You are a psychopathic monster and I do not wish to see you again!" He shouted to Placido once. After that day, he has never seen Placido again, true to his wishes. He asked around, and while the servants would avoid him, sadness obvious in their expressions, Isagani, who was not briefed about the secrecy, bluntly said Placido went to Manila to be on the front lines together with Simoun and Elias. 

He only cries since that day, locking himself away in his room, Placido's former room, which directly accepts the bright moonlight that the young man truly hates. He gave it up for Juanito who obviously romanticizes the moonlight, and Juanito wondered what else the man has given up for him.

[end] 

[or does it?]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being with me till the end. Please leave a comment and/or kudos. Correct me if I have historical inaccuracies.


End file.
